“Do you really think so, Neale?”
“Just as likely as not. Come here, Tom Jonah! She’ll hook you yet.”
“Oh!” said Agnes, quickly, “then we should be able to find the poor little things easily.”
“Huh? How do you make that out?” Neale demanded.
“Why, if they ran in the wrong direction, we ought to follow them.”
“That’s all right,” returned the boy. “But there are so many wrong directions! Which did they take?”
Agnes began to sob. Neale could not comfort her. Tom Jonah came and lapped her hands with his soft tongue, to show that he, too, sympathized with her.
The boy shouted until he was hoarse; but no childish cry was returned to him on the soft breeze.
And there was very good reason for that. The two smallest Corner House girls had some time since wandered beyond the sound of Neale’s voice or the dog’s bark,—even beyond the sound of the automobile horn.
While the older folk were seeking Tess and Dot, the two young explorers were seeking their friends. At first one could not have convinced the children that they were lost. No, indeed! It was Ruth and Agnes and Neale and Tom Jonah and Mrs. Heard and Sammy—and even the automobile—that had lost themselves.